however, it subsided, and from the last few
utterances before
quiet was restored Duane gathered that he had intruded upon
some kind of a meeting in the hall.
"What'd you break in here for," demanded Longstreth.
"Isn't this the court? Aren't you the Mayor of Fairdale?"
interrogated Duane. His voice was clear and loud, almost
piercing.
"Yes," replied Longstreth. Like flint he seemed, yet Duane felt
his
intense interest.
"I've
arrested a
criminal," said Duane.
"Arrested a
criminal!" ejaculated Longstreth. "You? Who're
you?"
"I'm a ranger," replied Duane.
A
significant silence ensued.
"I
charge Snecker with
assault on Laramie and attempted
robbery--if not murder. He's had a shady past here, as this
court will know if it keeps a record."
"What's this I hear about you, Bo? Get up and speak for
yourself," said Longstreth, gruffly.
Snecker got up, not without a furtive glance at Duane, and he
had shuffled forward a few steps toward the Mayor. He had an
evil front, but not the
boldness even of a rustler.
"It ain't so, Longstreth," he began, loudly. "I went in
Laramie's place fer grub. Some feller I never seen before come
in from the hall an' hit Laramie an' wrestled him on the floor.
I went out. Then this big ranger chased me an' fetched me
here. 1 didn't do nothin'. This ranger's hankerin' to
arrestsomebody. Thet's my hunch, Longstreth."
Longstreth said something in an undertone to Judge Owens, and
that
worthy nodded his great bushy head.
"Bo, you're dis
charged," said Longstreth,
bluntly. "Now the
rest of you clear out of here."
He
absolutely ignored the ranger. That was his
rebuff to
Duane--his slap in the face to an interfering ranger service.
If Longstreth was
crooked he certainly had
magnificent nerve.
Duane almost
decided he was above
suspicion. But his
nonchalance, his air of finality, his authoritative
assurance--these to Duane's keen and
practiced eyes were in
significantcontrast to a certain tenseness of line about his
mouth and a slow paling of his olive skin. In that momentary
lull Duane's scrutiny of Longstreth gathered an
impression of
the man's
intense curiosity.
Then the prisoner, Snecker, with a cough that broke the spell
of silence, shuffled a couple of steps toward the door.
"Hold on!" called Duane. The call halted Snecker, as if it had
been a bullet.
"Longstreth, I saw Snecker attack Laramie," said Duane, his
voice still ringing. "What has the court to say to that?"
"The court has this to say. West of the Pecos we'll not aid any
ranger service. We don't want you out here. Fairdale doesn't
need you."
"That's a lie, Longstreth," retorted Duane. "I've letters from
Fairdale citizens all begging for ranger service."
Longstreth turned white. The veins corded at his temples. He
appeared about to burst into rage. He was at a loss for quick
reply.
Floyd Lawson rushed in and up to the table. The blood showed
black and thick in his face; his
utterance was incoherent, his
uncontrollable
outbreak of
temper seemed out of all proportion
to any cause he should
reasonably have had for anger.
Longstreth shoved him back with a curse and a
warning glare.
"Where's your
warrant to
arrest Snecker?" shouted Longstreth.
"I don't need
warrants to make
arrests. Longstreth, you're
ignorant of the power of Texas Rangers."
"You'll come none of your
damned ranger stunts out here. I'll
block you."
That
passionate reply of Longstreth's was the signal Duane had
been
waiting for. He had helped on the
crisis. He wanted to
force Longstreth's hand and show the town his stand.
Duane backed clear of everybody.
"Men! I call on you all!" cried Duane, piercingly. "I call on
you to
witness the
arrest of a
criminal prevented by
Longstreth, Mayor of Fairdale. It will be recorded in the